The Devil's Thief, page 3
“It’s just plain brown,” she answered, mesmerized by him, by his reaction to her. She still whispered, afraid to ruin the magic of the night.
“Who are you?” His question startled her. He had not asked before. Why now? Had she given herself away somehow?
“Juliet,” she said desperately. “I am just Juliet.” She could not fail now, she couldn’t. There was too much at stake.
“No,” he told her with a smile that melted her from the inside out. “No. There is more to you than my moonlit Juliet.”
He untied her chemise slowly; pulling the strings as he’d just pulled her hair. The loose material fell open across her chest, exposing the tops of her breasts, and Julianna was astounded to see how enticing they looked that way, gleaming in the moonlight, lush and inviting. She looked up at Mr. Sharp’s face and saw he was as entranced as she was. She tried not to think too much, focusing instead on what she saw in his expression. There was tenderness there as well as need, as if he, too, felt more than a simple one-night affair should warrant. When he grasped the bottom of the chemise and gently drew it over her head, letting it drop to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her waist, embarrassed and yet still eager for him to hold her as he had before.
“Juliet.” His whisper raced across her shoulders, leaving chills in its wake. He grabbed her, all hunger and need and desire. She should have been frightened but she wasn’t. She was relieved at how much he wanted her. It was perfect, really. It would make it all so much easier. When his mouth came down on hers, she was ready this time. She met him as an equal in the kiss, as desperate to complete their bargain as he was.
She yelped in alarm when he suddenly pulled back and swept her up into his arms.
“Bed,” he muttered, spinning around and tossing her into the middle of his huge mattress.
Julianna laughed to cover the nerves that had returned full force as their encounter moved to the bed. “Are you insane?” she cried out in surprise, as he grabbed her left leg and dragged her down to the end of the bed. He yanked off her boot and tossed it over his shoulder.
“You have driven me insane,” he told her with a lascivious grin. “I am desperate to get you naked and fuck you madly.” He yanked and then tossed her other boot over his shoulder. It landed with a loud thump against the wall and then slid down to the floor.
Julianna held her breath to stifle her maidenly protest as he unbuttoned her trousers and pulled them off. She had nothing on underneath. It was the first time she’d ever been naked in front of a man. Mr. Sharp didn’t waste time looking. He growled his approval at her nakedness as he climbed back on the bed, shoving her legs apart so he could kneel between them. “You are gorgeous,” he said roughly, leaning down and kissing her stomach. He licked her from her navel to her mons. He hummed in appreciation while Julianna could only lay there, stunned by the things he was doing. “You smell marvelous,” he said, his voice muffled against her.
He put his mouth on her, between her legs, and suckled, and Julianna gasped in a mixture of shock and desire. “Oh!” she cried out as her shoulders curled up off the bed. She clutched the bedcovers tightly in her fists, wanting to grab him instead, to wrap her fists in his hair and either shove him away or hold his mouth on her forever. Her confusion only added to the wild, uncontrollable feelings crashing through her.
He groaned at her response and Julianna shivered violently. This was too much, more than she had expected. She had no idea how to go about this, had never heard of such a thing. She pushed him away as she tried to move out from under him. Suddenly he rose up to kneel between her legs again, breathing heavily.
“I’m sorry, Juliet, but I can’t wait. I’ll make you fly, angel. I promise.” He pushed her up the bed with his hands on her waist and she scrambled up until her head rested on the pillows. Mr. Sharp fell on top of her. There was no other word for it. His forearms lay on the bed beside her shoulders, bearing the weight of his upper body as he smiled wickedly at her. His hips squirmed from side to side, and Julianna automatically opened her legs more to accommodate him.
“That’s it, Juliet,” he murmured as he leaned down and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Let your Romeo in.”
It was too fast. Julianna had no time to prepare, no time to think about it. She just knew this was it. He was going to do it. He was going to enter her now, and then there would be no turning back. She felt him press against her sex, and she clutched his shoulders, keeping her shout of protest locked in her throat. Her mind was telling her to stop this, stop him, but her body knew what it wanted. It wanted him. Her hips tipped up to press that hard, seeking part of him against her, to feel him sliding between her thighs, opening her, about to enter her.
“Yes,” he told her, “you feel so good, Juliet. Perfect.”
His words irrationally thrilled her. She pleased him. It felt as good to him as it did to her. Then he thrust hard inside of her and Julianna had one moment of shock at his entry, one moment to feel the slight resistance and the sting as he tore through that resistance, filling her. Her hands still clutched at him, her fingernails digging into his skin as she cried out in fear and shock at what she’d done. What they’d done.
Mr. Sharp froze above her, his breath cutting the silence, stirring the tendrils of hair that had escaped their confinement. Julianna moved beneath him, and he made a quick, harsh sound, one hand going to her hip to hold her still. She looked up at him, and the look on his face was a mixture of anger and horror.
“Juliet, what have you done?” His voice was a harsh whisper. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “What have I done?”
Julianna didn’t answer him. Indeed, she was thinking the very same thing.
* * *
“Mr. Sharp—”
Alasdair cut her off with a bitter laugh. “Don’t you think you should call me Alasdair, given that I’ve just brutally taken your virginity?” He was furious. His voice was shaking with it. Why? Why had she lied to him? He’d wondered how desperate she was. Well, now he knew.
He started to pull out of her. It was torture. His mind was telling him to stop, but his body wasn’t willing to give up the tight, wet heat of her. He was so hard and sensitive he shuddered at the feel of her soft walls sliding against his shaft as he moved.
“Don’t!” she cried out, her legs wrapping tightly around him, her feet pressed to the back of his thighs. Her movement slid him deeper into her exquisite cavern, and Alasdair couldn’t hold back a groan. He’d never had a virgin before. Were they all this bloody tight?
“You were a damn virgin,” he growled at her accusingly. “You lied to me.”
She shook her head and Alasdair saw another piece of her dark hair slide down to rest against his pillow. “No,” she said firmly. “No, I never lied.” She squirmed beneath him, trying to hold him tighter, and Alasdair closed his eyes in an agony of want.
“I thought you wanted this. I thought it was what we both wanted.” His voice was choked and hoarse as she started to move again.
“I do want it. I do want you.” She sounded so sincere, and Alasdair opened his eyes to pin her with his gaze. Her eyes—what color were they? It was too dark to tell. He could just make out the gleam of her unshed tears in the moonlight, which was beginning to spill over the bed as the night crept closer to dawn.
“Do you?” he asked roughly, angry at her and, yes, at himself. “Or do you just want the pearl?”
Her lip trembled and she bit it, her teeth white and sharp in the wan light. He shook his head at his arrogant stupidity and her duplicity.
“If you needed it that badly, you should have told me.” He could hear the disappointment in his voice, and didn’t care if she heard it, too. He tried again to pull out of her. He was still hard as a pike and his body was protesting its removal from such a bower of earthly delights, but he was determined to do the right thing. He had never once used an unwilling woman and he wasn’t going to continue this now.
“I did tell you,” she threw back at him. “I told you I needed the money. But surely you must know that if I hadn’t wanted this, I would never have let you take me. I’ve never let anyone before.”
Alasdair laughed self-deprecatingly. Yes, she had told him, but he’d had visions of being her white knight. And now he was the dragon, devouring virgins in the night. He shook his head again. He was a fool, and their situation was his fault. His responsibility, his to make right.
“Please,” she whispered, and there was something there, something that made him look at her, made him listen. “I do want you,” she said in a shaky voice. “I have never wanted anyone like this before. But here with you tonight—I want you, Alasdair.” The way she said his name made him want to thrust hard into her, giving her what she asked for so prettily. But she was a virgin. He could be wild, and uncontrollable, and demanding. And God knew he liked his bed play rough and earthy. Too much, surely, for a woman’s first foray into sexual relations, even for a duplicitous little thief.
“Please.” Her voice was low, filled with uncertainty and a dash of desperation. Alasdair instinctively smoothed a hand soothingly over her hair. She turned into the caress. “Please don’t stop.” She wouldn’t look at him as she spoke softly. He leaned down to hear her better, so close he could smell the unexpected lavender of her hair. She rubbed her cheek on his palm and then turned to face him. They were a breath apart, their lips so close it would take but a thought to turn it into a kiss. “What you have taken was freely given, Alasdair,” she whispered. “We made a bargain, you and I.”
“How old are you?” he belatedly asked. A woman like her, and still a virgin? Perhaps she was younger than he had thought.
She hesitated a moment before answering. “Twenty.”
“That young?” he said, more to himself than to her. He suddenly felt ancient at twenty-eight.
“Hardly,” she said drily. “I’m told I’m practically on the shelf.”
Her tone made him laugh. She truly was astonishing, finding the humor in an awkward and painful situation. That thought sobered him. “Did I hurt you?” She squirmed and he bit back another moan.
“A little,” she said matter-of-factly. “But it already feels better.”
“I’m sorry.” And he was. “If you had been as experienced as I thought you were,”—he paused—“and I apologize for that as well, then it would not have hurt. You seemed to desire me as much as I desired you, and for an experienced woman that would have been enough to ensure such a reckless beginning would have a pleasurable ending.”
“I like it,” she told him boldly, then backed down a bit. “Well, maybe not the last part. But I liked your kisses.” She tentatively swiped her palm across his shoulders. “And the way you feel.” She turned her head and nuzzled his arm. “I like the closeness. I’ve never been this close to anyone before.” She turned her face up to his.
Alasdair knew he was a bastard even as he closed the slight distance between them and felt her full lips part to kiss him deeply. He could see it now, could sense her inexperience. What he’d thought was an act before, took on new meaning now. But her kisses were like opium, heavy and drugging and sensuous. And her full, moist lips and eager mouth were made for love. He delved into the pool of her desire like a man dying of thirst. He would deal with guilt and recriminations later. He’d taken her virginity, after all. The least he could do was give her pleasure in return.
He had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that the night had taken on a new and exciting thrill, as he pulled away from her kiss to stare at her heavy-lidded eyes. He was the first. The first to taste her, to touch her. The first to make her feel this way.
“Make no mistake, Juliet,” he whispered. “If we don’t stop now, there will be no turning back.” She was his to take care of now. They were beyond the turning point, whether she knew it or not.
She smiled, though it was still a bit uncertain. That smile captured a small piece of him. He wondered how much of himself he would lose to Juliet before the night was through.
“I don’t want to turn back, Alasdair. We made a bargain.” She quickly added, “But I expect you to meet your end of it, too.”
“That is as much as I expected, Juliet,” he assured her, settling deeper between her thighs with a groan, “and I am prepared to make the sacrifice.”
Juliet laughed and Alasdair’s heart skipped a beat. “Then I shall keep the bargain, and accept what you offer,” she said, wrapping him tightly in her embrace.
Chapter Four
Julianna slipped her shirt back on. She had gathered her clothes and was dressing in the far corner of the bedroom, careful not to wake Alasdair. It had been hard to lie in his arms, forcing herself to stay awake until she was sure he slept soundly. She hadn’t slept the night before worrying over her plan to steal the pearl. And last night … ah, last night.
Even though she had been lecturing herself nonstop for the last few minutes, ever since she’d stolen out of Alasdair’s bed, she couldn’t resist looking at him one more time. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon, the bedroom no more than a shade brighter than it had been when the waning moon was their only light. She could see him better now. See his blond curls against the pristine white of his sheets, the creamy color of his smooth skin just waiting for the sun to warm it. His shoulders looked so broad and muscular, even lying there in repose. She could see freckles on them, and on his arms. She hadn’t noticed them earlier.
He slept so soundly. The sleep of the innocent, she supposed. She hadn’t slept like that ever, it seemed.
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! / Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest, Julianna thought. But those were Romeo’s lines. Juliet’s were perhaps more appropriate. Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow, / That I shall say good night till it be morrow. Julianna sighed. She was no Juliet and Alasdair was not her Romeo. A grim smile crossed her lips. Thank God. Because everyone knew that had ended rather badly.
Julianna took one last glance at her sleeping Romeo before turning toward the window. It was the way she’d arrived. Alasdair had a rather convenient balcony facing the mews, which were still quiet in the early morning. She patted the hidden pocket in her shirt, which still contained the pearl. Then she pushed her hair out of the way and climbed over the railing and shimmied down the post to the grass below. She hadn’t dared to risk searching for her hairpins. But it mattered little. If she was quick, no one would see her with her hair down.
She had only to cross the street, after all.
* * *
“Good morning, Father.”
When she walked into the breakfast room three hours later, Julianna greeted her father in the same manner she did every morning. He was sitting at the head of the table, his spectacles perched on his nose as he sipped his tea, ate his toast, and read the paper. Her usual morning routine seemed rather surreal to Julianna. All was as it had been the day before. All except her. It was as if her night with Alasdair had never happened, and yet it was one of the most important nights of her life. It was hard to reconcile the two realities.
“Good morning, my dear. Would you care for tea?” He gestured at the footman, but their butler, Handley, was already bringing her a cup. He set it before her and held the teapot with a questioning quirk of his head.
Julianna wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. He did the same thing every morning, and every morning she nodded politely, just as she was doing now, and then he would pour the tea—yes, just like that. And then he would ask, “Would you care for something to eat, miss?”
“Yes, Handley, thank you.”
He stepped over to the sideboard and took a plate from the footman. It was already heaping with her usual morning fare of toast, eggs, and tomatoes. Julianna could have cried at the sheer monotony of it.
“And what do you have planned for the day, Julianna?” her father asked hopefully. Every day he asked, wishing that she would regale him with plans that included a ride in Hyde Park, and perhaps a shopping excursion to Bond Street with some mindless little horde of marriage-market hopefuls. Really, it was as if the man had forgotten everything about what their life had been like up until his recent marriage to Baroness Linville.
“I have an errand to run,” she said vaguely. She took a sip of tea and set the cup down just as Handley placed her plate in front of her. “Thank you, Handley,” she said with a smile, not willing to forego that particular morning routine. Julianna made a point of thanking everyone, whoever they were, for anything they did.
“You’re welcome, Miss Harte,” Handley replied gravely. He’d learned to say it, or else Julianna would ignore her food and the conversation until he did. She couldn’t wait for the day her stepmother, who hardly acknowledged the servants, inadvertently thanked him and he replied with, “You’re welcome.” Then her life would truly be complete.
Her father was looking at her suspiciously. “What kind of errand?”
Julianna finished chewing her bite of toast and wiped her mouth before answering. “I have a … friend in need.” She was being deliberately evasive.
“Handley, will you excuse us for a moment?” Mr. Harte asked, still looking at Julianna. “You should refresh the tea for her ladyship. She will be down shortly.”
“Of course, sir,” Handley said smoothly. He shooed the footman out of the room and closed the door behind them after he picked up the teapot, which Julianna could see was still steaming.
Her father sighed, and it was all Julianna could do not to follow suit. They were going to have “the discussion” again.
“Julianna,” he began, “you know I admire your desire to help those less fortunate. But you know Lady Linville does not approve of your association with the foundling home.”
Julianna kept eating. She knew he wasn’t yet finished.
“Those children, unfortunate innocents though they may be, are the by-blows of prostitutes and other unsavory characters from the stews of London. It does not reflect well on you or your stepmother that you involve yourself there. The baroness worries that you will be unable to attract a good marriage prospect if you continue.”
